


Stay in This World

by Dorotheian



Series: Canary Cage [6]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Bathing/Washing, College student Doumeki, Late Realizations, M/M, Shopkeeper Watanuki, Watanuki capitulates, Wish Fulfillment, fruit scale: orange, growing apart: averted, not-quite-seduction, promise revisited, thinking about feelings, thinking only one step ahead...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-08 17:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorotheian/pseuds/Dorotheian
Summary: Canon Divergence Point: Doumeki's Final Year of College





	1. Chapter 1

Doumeki came over to linger late over dinner as he had done frequently over the past several weeks. He was working on his folklore dissertation and typing sporadically on his computer, leaning over the table to peer at his books and review cramped little handwritten notes in his files and notebooks. Occasionally he would pause to spear a piece of the remains of what he hadn’t dumped into his stomach during the course of dinner, pop it into his mouth, and continue working. Watanuki talked his ear off at dinner but left him alone as soon as Doumeki opened his computer, feeling both prickly and guilty about the fact that Doumeki had more to do than he did. He reasoned that Doumeki should not be disturbed at this time.

He was loath to admit it, but these days Watanuki was just glad that Doumeki was eating up all his food. There was always too much of it, and Doumeki kept bringing more ingredients. Watanuki hardly ate anything these days himself. He could always keep finding places for the food in his fridge, but it relieved him a little to see even a few items leave it. He kept waiting for things to spoil, but they never seemed to, even in the height of Tokyo heat. At the rate in which he seemed to lose chunks of time, he had a sneaking suspicion he ought to be losing  _something_.

Speaking of time— Watanuki glanced at the clock, blinked, and looked back at Doumeki. His eyes were half-lidded, and half-circles had begun to darken under his eyes. It was nearing midnight. Usually he would have gone home by now.

“Is your deadline coming up....?”

Doumeki shook himself. “Soon, yes.” His head dropped, eyes back to the computer. His index finger tapped the left arrow key listlessly.

Watanuki pressed his lips together and drifted back into the kitchen to stare at the stove, wondering if he ought to put the kettle on and risk the noise disturbing Doumeki’s concentration. Caffeine in the tea might perk him up, unless it wasn’t strong enough; then coffee was in order. Watanuki did not know how sensitive Doumeki was, and Watanuki got the feeling that what Doumeki needed most right now was rest, and Doumeki hadn’t said the deadline was tonight, only soon, and so—

 _THOK_.

Watanuki jumped and looked up to find Doumeki lifting his head slowly from the wooden table and blinking owlishly at him. He winced.

That decided him: this really wouldn’t do. Watanuki bit his lip and hastened to Doumeki’s side and shooed him from his chair across the room and to the couch. Somewhat bewildered, Doumeki sat down on the couch, listing to the side. Watanuki quickly propped his legs up and shoved them onto the couch as he would slide a row of books into the backboard of a bookshelf, and Doumeki lay down properly, even gratefully; his eyelids were fluttering. He must have been exhausted. Doumeki’s eyes closed. Watanuki found his jacket and dropped it over him.

He stood there awhile, just watching Doumeki’s sleeping form breathe in and out, watched the jacket rising and falling and slipping. Watanuki pulled it back into place and left, quickly, before he started feeling too young and too old both at once.

It didn’t feel right to just leave. Watanuki groped about in the closet where Doumeki always stored his jackets and coats and found a longer one. He took that to where Doumeki slept, and draped that over him as well. Watanuki held his bare arms, feeling cold himself, and went away.

 

Watanuki stared at the ceiling for a long time hoping to count wisps of smoke or stray butterflies, but none appeared and he did not sleep and he did not dream. His thoughts dwelled on his guest downstairs until he slipped into wistful grayness. In the morning he awoke. The dream itself he could not remember, but he must have had one. He had the distinct impression that he and Doumeki had been discussing Doumeki’s dissertation intelligently like old friends, chatting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It almost could be true and yet it was...absurd....

The rest of the dream surged forward like a slap in the face, the gliding sensation of a dream kiss and the keen disappointment accompanying it. Doumeki sitting high beside him, serene, leaning in, ever closer... and Watanuki responding with a hot flare of incandescent anger when their lips met, for  _this was not the friendship that had been before, and he didn’t want it to change, and this, Doumeki was changing it on him and it was unfair, these weren’t the rules he signed up for, he hadn’t chosen this and love was……more than he could handle…._

Watanuki stared bleakly at the covers pulled over his lap. In the dream, he had wanted only friendship and felt betrayed to have his expectations thwarted; now that he was awake, he wanted what in the dream he had. It just wasn’t possible. The idea that Doumeki might want him was ridiculous. And, Watanuki thought restlessly, if he did, then he was an utter fool......

The thought unaccountably failed to cheer him. It depressed him even more.

He had to get rid of this strange restless energy. Watanuki got up, unfastening his belt, and let the extra articles of clothing fall away, strewing them along his path but the last robe undergarment, and strode to the baths before he could change his mind. He slid open the door, almost throwing it open, and froze.

Doumeki was sitting there in the tub, quite naked, his clothes hung neatly on the hooks on the wall, and Watanuki was dressed in little better with everything plainly exposed while Doumeki’s eyes flicked their gaze to the top of his head and started to lick their way down. Watanuki slammed the door shut and threw himself against the wall out of the line of sight. He was breathing harder than he should, and his heart was pounding. Watanuki folded his robe over himself and secured it with his arms, and ran his fingers over the faintly ridged edge. The action was self-soothing, and Watanuki swallowed. There was still the lump in his throat.

He heard splashing noises and the sound of wet feet stepping on tile. The door drew open—only slightly—and Doumeki said, through the crack in the door, “Were you wanting to take a bath?”

“Uhhhh....” Watanuki’s brain was still whirring too fast to answer.

“Do you want to take one with me?”

“I—” He was still panicking.

“You woke up late, so I went ahead without your permission,” said Doumeki in his low monotone. "The water’s still warm.”

Warm water...that would be— Watanuki cut off the thought before he felt tempted. That was stupid anyway, he’d draw his own water....

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t see Doumeki’s hand reach through the crack in the door and close around his wrist, his index finger resting lightly above the veins. Watanuki wondered if he could feel his pulse; he certainly heard the throb in his ears.

“Come along,” Doumeki said. “It’s your bath.”

He could have resisted. He didn’t. “I know that, idiot,” Watanuki muttered, hesitating. At last he stepped forward, and drew the door aside. Doumeki released him, spun around, and sank back into the water, positioning his body at an angle so that he wouldn’t be looking at Watanuki. Watanuki took off his undergarment and washed himself quickly in the corner, rinsed, and clambered into the tub beside Doumeki. He drew up his legs, wrapped them in his arms, and rested his chin on his knees. It was cramped. They were too close. His left shoulder leaned into Doumeki’s side.

Doumeki’s expression didn’t change, but Watanuki thought he might have seen a twitch of a smile when he looked at him. It must have been a trick of the eye.

“So,” Watanuki mumbled to the warm-hot water, determined to talk about something, anything normal, “what’s your dissertation about anyway? And when’s it due?” He had probably asked this before, and had forgotten half on purpose, but Doumeki didn’t appear any less patient, and that somehow made Watanuki feel worse.

“End of next week. It’s about folklore,” Doumeki murmured.

Watanuki made a helpless, short, aborted explain-more gesture. “Yeees...”

Doumeki blinked slowly. “It’s about a few of the items that I found in Haruka’s collection. A couple of books with techniques, and instruments that we found to complete them, and I am researching when and where they came from or if they are originals to Haruka. If they came from the past, then that would suggest that the rituals survived well into the twentieth century. It requires plenty of research.”

“I see.”

“I could go into more detail.”

“I don’t think I could follow it....” Watanuki murmured, and could not look into Doumeki’s face for a few seconds.

Doumeki looked back at him, and his face shifted: hardened, somehow, but softened too. “I will explain.” Concern, that was the expression, Watanuki realized belatedly, and was confused.

Watanuki swished the water with his hands. “All right.” He glanced at Doumeki.

It was hard to say how, but Doumeki looked pleased. He began to explain his findings to Watanuki in a low voice, using the terminology he knew, explaining the vocabulary as he went along.

It wasn’t long before Watanuki began to tire of listening, and he sank into Doumeki’s side without being aware of it.

“Why did you ask?” Doumeki asked quietly, when he had finished.

Watanuki replied, rectantly, “Dream.”

“Of the future?” Doumeki said, surprised.

Watanuki shook his head, and hoped he wasn’t reddening. His cheeks heated. He was, dammit. He stared at his feet.

Doumeki got out of the bath, toweled off, and changed back into his clothes.

“Where are you going?” Watanuki asked.

“School. Work.” Doumeki finished knotting his tie, and left.

Watanuki sank into the water up to his hair.

 

Haruka appeared that night, the smell of tobacco burning hazy around him. “How is my grandson?”

“Exhausted,” said Watanuki. He frowned at the wooden planks of the porch and kicked his feet.

The ember of Haruka’s cigarette glowed, a red eye in the cool evening. He put it to his lips again and blew, sending out another curling plume of smoke. “Are you concerned?”

Watanuki scowled, even as his gut twisted viciously, and he wrapped his arms around his knees. So pricked, old habit forced him to say, “Why would I be concerned about him?” more vehemently than he meant it, followed by a wave of shame and misery so strong even Haruka probably felt it.

Haruka showed his mild disapproval through a flat answering stare. “I thought you were past that.”

Mutely, Watanuki shook his head. There were no words but he always seemed to find the wrong ones. The tangled feelings he did have, he could find no way to express.

 “I know what you said was not true, and I know you know it too. Perhaps I shouldn’t push you.” Haruka stood and stubbed out his cigarette and let the ashes fall. “What do you want, Watanuki?”

“Friendship.”

“And?”

“…more than that,” said Watanuki, reluctantly.

“You already have it.”

He said it with such cool confidence that Watanuki gaped; Haruka swiftly pinched his cheek. Watanuki blushed, averting his eyes, and Haruka released him.

“You don’t want to get closer,” Haruka intoned. “Because?”

Watanuki grew warm under the collar. “Because he likes me.”

“And because he likes you?”

“He’ll show me,” Watanuki shivered, “that he likes me.”

“So you did everything in your power to make sure he wouldn’t like you?”

“I didn’t like him, it’s not—” Watanuki shook his head sharply. “It didn’t work. By the time we… I gave it up. It wasn’t working anymore.”

“Even you couldn’t deny that something was happening.” Haruka nodded, adding another layer of smoke to the night air. “Until a new distance had conveniently come between you. A wish, and endless time. You thought he might lose heart.”

Watanuki’s eyes snapped up to Haruka’s pale green, the insight sinking fast and deep into his spirit with a sharpness that cut and flayed open. He felt chilled. Unnerved, he licked his lips. “But I know he hasn’t. Even with... eternity to...” He flicked his gaze to the side. “He wouldn’t leave me behind.”

“Have you considered,” said Haruka, “that it’s a different kind of ‘like’ than you thought it was? And that is why it hasn’t broken?”

“I don’t know,” Watanuki mumbled.

“They say devotion is a funny word but an even odder trait. It’s common to our family,” Haruka continued, as if Watanuki hadn’t spoken. “That is something you need to know. Given to few, but given whole. It is patient and does not shift. It is constant, and doesn’t waver, until deliberately dismissed.”

Watanuki stared at him, stricken.

“Fear is your familiar. He wouldn’t do anything against your wishes, Watanuki-kun,” Haruka told him. “He wouldn’t choose to leave you. If you don’t want him, release him. Use your words. But you should be bold to tell him what you want. He’ll follow your lead. Don’t make him wait any longer. You’ll never know what it is you destroyed.”

Haruka began to fade, and in a rush of smoke and wind and curtain he was gone.

 

Watanuki fought with the sheets tangled between his arms and legs and woke up in a sweat. It was the most agitated he had ever woken from a dream with Haruka. They both must have been pushing the envelope, resisting the closure of the dream.

Watanuki sat up and pulled at the sticky sheafs the night had made of his hair until they began to stick up. He combed the sweat from each sheaf strand by strand.

It wasn’t quite true what he had said to Haruka, though close. Watanuki wanted Doumeki to like him. He hadn’t wanted Doumeki to want him. Back in high school, he hadn’t distinguished the difference, and only started to perceive it when he became shopkeeper. He sensed Doumeki had a sense for things he didn’t, and part of it was the want, and other things he couldn't parse, and that—was a big part of what scared him about Doumeki in his teenage years. Because Watanuki didn’t have anything to give, so all Doumeki could do was take. But if Haruka was correct, Watanuki had missed the signals that mattered after all.

It hadn’t been bad, that kiss in his dream. Not good either, but Watanuki had only been angry because it, and what it meant, had not figured into his plans, and he had not been given the chance to choose it for himself.

He could not move forward if he refused to choose.

Watanuki got up, casting the sheets aside, and threw on a white cotton robe in which to pace, moving restlessly from one side of the room to the other. Doumeki would be home later tonight; and in what guise should he meet him? What did he need to do to...figure out what he wanted?

The answer came quickly in an image, and Watanuki’s breath turned quick and shallow. This was almost too daring— But he would certainly be facing his fears.

With trembling hands Watanuki drew out the folds of the swallowtail kimono, and clutched it to his chest. Now or never, he thought, and swung it around his shoulders. It hung just so and wrapped around his body almost of its own accord. Watanuki cinched it with a belt and dressed mechanically, not caring that he was baring too much skin and he was being careless: intentionally careless, but he didn’t want to dwell on that. He took the thin grey obi and wrapped it around his waist, and tied the knot firmly. He shook out the wings drooping from his back. They didn’t hang fully, but lay curled like a butterfly’s before the wings had dried. He didn’t care.

It would be too long and too short before Doumeki came.

He walked out to the living room and found that the sun had gone down again, that he had not woken for almost the entire day, instead of in the morning: the price, probably, of fighting against the tide to make Haruka’s dream last longer. Tired, Watanuki lay down on the couch, tucking his arm behind his head and letting the other dangle off the couch; the skirts of the kimono shifted, exposing one leg. He’d fix it later. As the shopkeeper, he could act, if he had to...

He found the kiseru pipe on the stand next to the couch, as usual, and used magic to light the tobacco inside it. Maybe it would calm him. He put the kiseru to his lips, and breathed.

He heard the door ease open, and the footsteps in the genkan, the sloughing of the shoes. No sudden movements. Watanuki’s heart pounded as he lowered this kiseru slowly, and just as slowly turned his face to Doumeki’s, staring at Watanuki dumbfounded as if he were Doumeki’s worst fear confirmed, as it slowly dawned on Watanuki. What he saw: becoming Yuuko.

Perhaps he was. Watanuki felt a sting of regret; had he just put another barrier up between them—? Crushed the hope—

That was what Doumeki feared, he understood suddenly, and remorse welled up inside him. He was not _her_ , only borrowing a shell of her for the strength of fiber that he needed. It was a miscalculation. He did not need props. He had to make this right.

He got up slowly, for his head was pounding from the change of height and posture, and drew one more breath from the pipe: and then he strode towards Doumeki, still holding it, with longer strides than the kimono should allow so his legs flashed milk-white beneath the folds, and stopped a few bare inches between their chests, turned his face to Doumeki’s. Breathed.

Through the smoke Doumeki didn’t flinch, didn’t move, and it didn’t reduce the dead horror in his eyes. Doumeki did nothing; he did not do what Watanuki feared. But he stayed. Finally Watanuki could see how it cost him. What it meant. It was enough. He saw his own foolishness, his own cruelty, unfair. Doumeki was worthy. And so much, much better than he deserved.

“Doumeki,” he said. “Shizuka.”

Doumeki’s eyes flickered.

“I see you.” Watanuki worked the pipe into his obi, so it would not fall, and reached up, and put his hands on Doumeki’s face. “I’m sorry.”

Doumeki whispered, “Are you...seducing me...?” and it was unexpectedly clear that he did not know what he would do if it had come to this, that Watanuki’s answer was yes, and was not sure if it was the answer he wanted it to be. But seduction was not what this was, not exactly.

Watanuki almost smiled, but sadly, so it was not quite. “I suppose I want out of this world.”

Doumeki moved too fast to see. Doumeki crushed him into his chest, arms wrapped around him so strongly, so tightly that Watanuki almost gasped. Doumeki’s face dipped, eyes closed, his nose tickling Watanuki’s ear. He inhaled once deeply, and shuddered.

Again, he had not done what Watanuki feared, though he had begun to fear it a little less as Watanuki faced it, and now began to choose it. Now it was becoming something he, too, wanted.

“Shizuka,” Watanuki said, muffled, into Doumeki’s chest. “I’m sorry. I scared you. You don’t have to...cross over to my side. It’s....I’m done. It’s over. I’ll defect to yours.” 

“Watanuki. But you...” Doumeki Shizuka breathed. “Kimihiro, it’s still your choice...”

Watanuki Kimihiro's heart broke. “I was wrong. Shizuka, it’s over. You’ve endured so much. I chose, once. I’ll choose _again_.”

Shizuka was shaking soundlessly with soft gasps for breath that were also sobs, and Watanuki Kimihiro held him. Kept holding him, like they would never break apart.

“Finally, I want to be your friend,” Kimihiro whispered into his chest, “as you’ve been one to me.” Somehow, Shizuka heard. His arms tightened, a little, and relaxed an infinitesimal amount again. Kimihiro wrenched his head back to look up at him. “Only I’ve done everything backwards, because I’m also an idiot...because I love you.”

At that, Shizuka laughed softly, and their lips met. It was certainly not gliding, nor confident, but fluttery: soft and sweet and wet, lips plump and thicker than Kimihiro imagined, interrupted by tangled breaths. It was worse. It was better. They wanted more.

They pulled apart, just a little, and Kimihiro said, “I can’t leave the shop right away.”

Shizuka’s expression nearly fell, but he kept his eyes fixed on Kimihiro’s.

“I need to negotiate with Syaoran. When I accepted...the shop and all its restrictions, there was something I didn’t tell you.” Kimihiro Watanuki turned his head and swallowed. “The price wasn’t right, because I paid too much. But it was a price paid with him, so I need to let him know before we adjust it. Otherwise, it may not be right again.”

Shock was evident on Shizuka’s face.

“Is that—?” Kimihiro faltered, reaching halfway up to his cheek.

“It’s fine,” said Shizuka, catching his hand and cradling it next to his ear; “it’s more than fine.” He smiled, a little strained. “I have something to tell you, too.” With his other hand, he reached into his jacket and retrieved a pouch, which he unzipped, and pressed something cool and round into Kimihiro’s hand.

Kimihiro looked at it. An ordinary gray egg.

“What’s it for?” Kimihiro said hoarsely.

“Yuuko told me not to tell you about it until the time was right. I never made my choice. I couldn’t.” Shizuka met his eyes. “I think it was to erase your memories of her.”

Kimihiro swallowed, his eyes bright. “Perhaps it would have been better if you had. But thank you...for not... I want to remember, even if I’ve chosen not to wait.” He gave the egg back to Shizuka, who tucked it into the pouch and returned it to his pocket.

“I thought so,” Shizuka murmured. “I couldn’t do it.”

“You hopeless optimist,” Kimihiro croaked, and leaned against Shizuka. “What if patience hadn’t worked?”

Shizuka shrugged. “Whatever I could.”

Too good for him, indeed.

Kimihiro wondered about the days ahead, and then the connection clicked: “Did I distract you? Can you still write your dissertation?!!”

Shizuka laughed soundlessly again. “Compared to... It hardly matters, but ... yes, of course. Not today, but it will be done soon.” He kissed the top of Kimihiro’s head. “And after that, I will teach you everything that you need to know.”

“Oh...” Kimihiro twisted between Shizuka’s hands, not sure what he was doing, besides getting closer, and Shizuka suddenly froze.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Shizuka ruefully, “But you’ve been holding me an awfully long time for someone who’s barely tolerated touching my skin for a second before.” Shizuka drew back a little. “Is it all right? Or am I mis— Do you want to have sex?”

“Ah,” said Kimihiro, and stopped short. He relaxed. “No, that was not my intention. Should I...” He hadn’t thought about how this situation might be taxing for Shizuka, having been wrapped up in his own drama.

“Probably.” Kimihiro slid himself away, and they eased apart. Kimihiro collapsed in a chair, and Shizuka perched on a nearby stool for a mere half-second before excusing himself and heading for the restroom. When Kimihiro’s legs were steady, he went back to his room and changed out of Yuuko’s butterfly kimono, taking care this time, with a mental apology and a promise to give it a thorough ironing out later. He changed into a Chinese robe with a slit in its side that looked, in contrast, chaste.

When Shizuka came out, Kimihiro took a shower, and Shizuka cooked dinner for them both. Even Kimihiro had to admit it was functional but sumptuous.

 

Kimihiro had Mokona called up Syaoran and it was decided. Kimihiro would stay shopkeeper and he would forgo immortality. He could not leave his town, or travel between worlds. He could not see his spirit friends in their native realms. He had freedom again, enough. Syaoran could not hide the relief and pride on his face when Kimihiro made his choice, and flung it out from him again. The universe shivered and changed and Kimihiro felt Syaoran’s price flex in a moment before it all stabilized, and lessen. The universe was intact. Syaoran seemed pleased by the change. “I think I may find the clones sooner than before.”

“... _less_ time?” asked Kimihiro, bewildered. “I thought it would be—”

Syoaran tilted his head. “I had to balance you.”

“I thought I was balancing you!”

Syaoran snorted. “No, you were balancing me, the clones,  _and_  Yuuko. She represented the heaviest price. You were always balancing more.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sor—”

“We never had the chance to talk about it. It happened too fast. How could either of us fully understand what happened then? Don’t apologize.” Syaoran smiled warmly. “Just live. I know you won’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” Kimihiro promised.

 

Shizuka turned in his dissertation. Kimihiro left the shop for the first time in many years, and met Shizuka in the park, and Shizuka took him to his own apartment. They made love there, amid laundry stacks and grocery lists, cleaning supplies and rough carpet, on top of Shizuka’s one-man futon, rolling over his one blanket.

“So. What now?” asked Shizuka.

A thoroughly red-faced Kimihiro blinked to look up in his face. “I don’t know. I already have a job. Do I need another one?”

Shizuka kissed him under the earlobe. Kimihiro arched in ecstasy. “Do you?” Shizuka murmured.

”Mmmn,” said Watanuki. “I can’t think when you….” Shizuka licked the same spot, and Watanuki writhed and came back to himself, panting. “What is this, Doumeki revenge? Do you want an answer or not?”

Shizuka laughed. “No,” he said. “Don’t answer yet.” He wriggled downwards and put his lips on Kimihiro's bare stomach, so that Kimihiro sucked in a great breath and held it. “You’re so interesting.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Kimihiro weakly, knotting his fingers in Shizuka's hair as, and then— “Please stop.”

Shizuka looked up right away. “What’s wrong?”

“Come up...here.” Kimihiro looked away. Shizuka obliged immediately. Kimihiro curled his fingers into Shizuka's and sighed heavily. “I want to stay."

“Stay?” said Shizuka, puzzled.

“Here, in your crummy old apartment,” Kimihiro clarified.

“I thought…” Shizuka looked surprised.

"If you don’t like the idea, say something,” said Kimihiro urgently.

“No,” said Shizuka, dumbfounded, and kissed him full on the mouth. “No,” he said again.

Kimihiro huffed. “I don’t know what that means in Doumeki-speak.”

“Stay,” Shizuka whispered into Kimihiro’s wet mouth, and closed his eyes, and kissed him again, as if to melt into Kimihiro's whole body this time.

It was too sweet. “Nnngh,” responded Kimihiro, incoherent, as he began to silently cry; Shizuka stopped what he was doing to lick the tears from his eyelids. Kimihiro didn’t know what Shizuka wanted with his tears, and he was afraid to open his eyes, for fear of losing the moment.

He saw himself from Shizuka's perspective then, thin and stretched and so very beautiful, vulnerable and just barely hanging on. Love. Concern. Adoration. Compassion. A fire in his eyes, his hands. A fire in his loins. It was so alien. So strange. His eyes flew open, curling in on himself.

“What?”

"My eye,” said Kimihiro, his heart thudding in his ears. He sat up. “I saw myself. From your eyes.”

“Kimihiro.”

Something twisted deep in Kimihiro’s gut. “You really…. You really feel that so—” 

“Yeah,” said Shizuka softly.

Tears seeped from Kimihiro’s eyes again. “Were you trying to show me that?”

Shizuka's reply was clipped and immediate. “No. It was an accident."

“I’m glad.”

Shizuka Doumeki's only reply was to grab Kimihiro’s hand, nailing his palm with his thumb with a tight, almost punishing intensity. Words were not enough.

“Don’t be sorry,” Kimihiro whispered. “I want to stay.”

“Then don’t disappear.”

“I won’t,” Kimihiro promised.

“Good.” Doumeki pushed him back down to the bed, flat to the mattress. "I love you.” It was the heavy word, the possessive word, the too-big-for-a-word-to-be-a-word, the I’d-give-everything-for-you.  _Aishiteiru_.

That word— Watanuki couldn’t accept it. Kimihiro accepted it, though he had nothing to give in return.

“I know.” Kimihiro locked eyes with Shizuka. “That’s why I’ll stay with you."


	2. Interstitial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it. Errrrrrr. Author appeal? I'm not completely satisfied with how the logic flows here, and to explain Watanuki's thought process here may be difficult, because I think it is a little opaque, but I'll try. Some of the mental leaps here were resolved in the series itself by action, but it was not shown whether Watanuki was consciously *aware that changes in his own status in regards to Doumeki had occurred,* and certainly was not aware of all the facts because of his own unresolved misconceptions, and so was not able to act on them when push came to shove and he lost Yuuko suddenly. So this fic is kind of about Watanuki catching up to himself.... And yeah, everything happens really, really quickly once those assumptions get taken down. Which could probably be explored further.
> 
> So I think the previous story deserves a little poetic translation. So here you get it, command-line style. Please excuse any style errors, I am not a programmer. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_Internal feelings of "like" or "attraction" -- > unreadable data --> expressed dislike or irritability --> denial_

 

_Anticipation of being externally "liked" or "wanted" -- > fear --> avoidance_

_Denial + Avoidance = Impasse_

_…_

 

Watanuki.exe STATUS LOCK

 

 

Question:

Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible? = NO (denial)

Refresh: Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible? = OR (I do miss his presence)

Refresh: Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible? = OR (I do like him sometimes)

Refresh: Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible? = ERROR (He is my friend, I am not his friend)

ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.

Refresh: Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible? = Y/N (I want to be his friend)

 

DOES NOT COMPUTE --->

Reboot:

_Watanuki.exe_

 

Watanuki.exe STATUS RELOCK

 

Input:

_UDP_Unusual Dream Perception_Object:Self_ + _XOXO_

Trash:

_File: XOXO_ (illegal download. permissions not found.)

Run:

_Recursive Reality_UDP_

Result:

_Sim!UDP -XOXO +HELLO!NAKED_ ---> Run

Target success: Mutually Friendly Interaction Has Occurred ✓

Proof-of-possibility accepted ✓

Values change approved ✓

 

Question:

Are Doumeki.exe and Watanuki.exe friend-compatible?  = Yes (acceptance)

Watanuki.exe STATUS UNLOCK

STAGE ONE: PASSED  ✓

 

Trash:

_Denial.like_

_Denial.attraction_

 

Run:

_Acceptance.like_

_Acceptance.attraction_

 

The program Acceptance.attraction could not be found. Would you like to try again?

  

Input:

_UDP_Unusual Dream Perception_User:Haruka_

Download:

_Devotion.like_Driver_

_Devotion.attraction_Driver_

 

Trash:

_Avoidance.like_

_Avoidance.want_ 

 

Reboot. Update. Scan for viruses.

 

(1) Corrupt File: XOXO

 

_Scan XOXO_

_Analyze XOXO_

 

No viruses found. File XOXO cannot be uploaded or restored due to insufficient permissions.

Password and Key is required for manual override.

Password: *******

Key: ********************

Override Accepted.

 

Please choose an application to open the file.

 

Run:

_Butterfly_Seduction_Scenario.app_ (last opened: 5 years ago) ((Warning: File May Require Update. Proceed?)))

 

Proceed with Update

Proceed without Update ✓

 

Open:

_XOXO_

ERROR: Unforseen interactions with Doumeki.exe crashed the file

ERROR: Unforseen interactions with Doumeki.exe crashed the file 

ERROR: Unforseen interactions with Doumeki.exe crashed the file

ERROR: Unforseen interactions with Doumeki.exe crashed the file

….STATUS INCOMPLETE….

 

*** ALL SYSTEMS CRASHED ***

 

Reboot:

_Watanuki.exe_

Update/Rename: _Watanuki.exe_ ——> _Kimihiro.exe_ ✓

Update/Rename: _Doumeki.exe_ ——> Shizuka.exe ✓

 

Running:

_Acceptance.like_ ✓

_Acceptance.attraction_ ✓

_Accessed: new data_

 

Running: 

_Devotion.like_Driver_ ✓

_Devotion.attraction_Driver_ ✓

_Accessed: aishiteiru_

 

Question:

Are Shizuka.exe and Kimihiro.exe friend-compatible? = YES

 Are Shizuka.exe and Kimihiro.exe lover-compatible? = YES

 

Kimihiro.exe STATUS UNLOCK

STAGE TWO: PASSED  ✓

 

Update: _Tsubasa!Wish_

Update completed

 

_Region_Unlock_: Wishing!Shop

_Region_Unlock_: Greater!Tokyo


End file.
